Skating
by FalselyTrue
Summary: Kendall. Skating. Enough said. KendallxKatie sibling fluff. NON INCEST. Read. Review. Hate? Love?


Title: Skating

Summary: Kendall. Skating. Enough said. KendallxKatie sibling fluff. NON INCEST. Read. Review. Hate? Love?

Rating: K+

Warnings: Not much, really...

A/N: Uhm, yeah. Saw the new episode...had a brain flash...this resulted.

Spoilers: Big Time Dance, and I guess? spoilers for Big Time Fever, even though it can be read understandably if you haven't seen Big Time Fever.

Disclaimer: Do not own, never have owned, you can leave me alone now, right?

* * *

Skating was Kendall's think time. Unlike the other boys, if he hadn't been invited to Hollywood by Gustavo Roque, he would have become a pro hockey player in the NHL—for the Capitols or the Sharks, probably, even though his dream was to play for the Minnesota Wild. He definitely would have played in the Stanley Cup—and probably would have led his team to victory in the Olympics.

As a sixteen year old, he was already fielding offers from the IIHL, and he was even an honorary player on the U of M's hockey team. The NHL wouldn't ask until he was eighteen, since they refused to draft or sign anyone younger. Kendall didn't think this was necessary—he was good enough, so why couldn't they just sign him?

He wasn't old enough when the Olympics rolled around, but he would have tried out if he could have. He'd be nineteen at his next chance—he could be one of the youngest Olympic hockey players ever.

He idolized Wayne Gretzky, and kept a framed, autographed jersey—number 99, _of course_—hanging in his room. Kendall Coyne had her own autographed poster in his room. He'd actually met her, and his crush on her wasn't that big.

Okay, fine, it was. But still—he'd make it to the Olympics

Skating was Kendall's thing.

It didn't matter what kind, roller or ice, skating was just his time to think.

Carlos was the only one who even came close to Kendall's level of skating—and he got injured far more often and thusly spent most of his time on the bench, nursing bruises, bumps, scrapes, cuts (Kendall wasn't sure how Carlos managed to get the _back_ of his head cut with a skate blade when it was protected by a _helmet_, but that was Carlos for you…injuring himself in impossible ways). But Carlos was still the only one able to keep up with Kendall in the rink.

James didn't like to play, even though he was fairly decent—he'd gotten a tooth knocked out and a couple black eyes and that was the end of it. (Kendall secretly thought James was just one giant wimp, quitting the best sport in the world just because of _one tooth_)He cheered them on and was pretty much the cheerleader of the group. Not that he would admit it. (Kendall was still sure that he was gay and was therefore VERY uncomfortable sharing a room with him. No _guy_ needed that many hair products.)

Logan was a horrible skater. He was the team's manager and co-coach, instead. He had every strategy memorized and the skill sets of each player organized in the filing cabinet he called his brain. While Kendall knew this was useful, he still thought that actually being on the ice and playing the game was more effective than numbers and statistics.

Being on the ice was the best thing in the world.

So whenever Hollywood and the PalmWoods got too difficult, he'd grab his skates and gear and head out to the rink.

The Los Angeles Kings had a practice rink he'd talked them into letting him use, if he'd practice with them sometimes. They may have been pretty horrible and not his favorite team, at all, but a game was a game, and in sunny Los Angeles, Kendall would take what he could get.

He'd rather go against the Sharks or the Caps, but still.

The one thing he never told anyone he did was that he figure skated as well. Hockey was the best sport in the world, but you couldn't play it alone. It wasn't fun if you didn't have a team and impossible without an opponent.

So he learned to figure skate—tagging along with Katie to one of her classes, he'd made a deal with her. He'd teach her hockey if she'd teach him figure skating.

It was one of the stranger things for the janitor's at their ice rink, a five year old girl teaching an eleven year old hockey player how to figure skate, but they just shrugged and dismissed it. So what?

Now was one of the times Kendall needed to figure skate.

So he didn't go to the Kings' rink—he headed for the public rink two blocks away from Roque Records. Hockey was about dependence, and there wasn't anyone who could give him a good enough game that would do it at eleven at night, when he needed to think. Plus, he needed to think through all the tactics, and while he may be a natural at it, that was still Logan's thing. He'd rather pull it off than figure out how to do it. So figure skating it was.

Everything was confusing right now—the dance, with the performance and all its problems, was coming up, and being Kendall, it was his job to help arrange it—and he just needed space to breathe and think this out.

He sighed, and pulled off a flawless triple axel, trying to toss his thoughts off into the air as he spun, but it wouldn't work.

Applause startled him, and he spun to a halt, sending up a spray of ice.

"You've been working on that triple axel, I see." Katie leaned against the skate rink rail. "But I have a feeling that won't fix your problem."

Kendall shrugged. "It didn't, but it did feel good, finally landing it."

Katie laughed and sat on the skate bench. "Want me to teach you that triple salchow you always have problems with?" she asked, pulling off her skate guards and stepping onto the ice, gliding a few feet, then gathering speed and pulling off a triple salchow.

He rolled his eyes and watched as his little sister landed a jump he'd been struggling over for the past six months. It hadn't helped that his feet had grown and he'd needed to break in new skates, which was always a major pain.

"I was actually hoping for some one-on-one hockey." It was Katie's turn to roll her eyes.

"Puh-lease. If you'd wanted hockey, you'd've gone to the Kings. You needed think time, didn't you?" It really irritated Kendall that Katie could read him so easily. "You're worrying about the dance, leading BTR, asking Jo out and trying to explain to James why you're scared to room with him. That's why you landed that triple toe loop—you weren't overthinking it, like you usually do. You let your mind concentrate on something else, and your body did the work." Katie was way too insightful for a ten year old.

"Now, could you watch my long program, and tell me what I'm doing wrong, because Coach Yavonokov scowls every time I do it.

Kendall nodded obediently and sat on the bench, starting his little sister's music and watching as she performed her routine to Britt Nicole's Sunshine Girl.

"Your timing is a bit off. You might want to work on that, and tighten up your spins a hair. And your lutz landing was a bit wobbly—that's probably what Yavonokov was scowling at. That's your best jump, and you're wobbling as you land."

Katie nodded, and skated over to the edge of the rink, her blue skirt swirling a bit as she halted.

"You miss the old rink, don't you?" she asked, looking at the shiny new LA rink. "The worn floors, the hockey markings on the ice, the old Zamboni that only worked half the time…you miss it a lot, don't you?"

Kendall nodded, wordlessly agreeing to Katie's observation.

The two siblings sat in silence for a while, soaking in the icy feel of the rink and thinking out their own problems.

Finally, Katie spoke. "You know, Jo is an figure skater, right?"

Kendall glanced at Katie suspiciously. "No…"

"Well, she does. She moved out to be a singer, but she loves figure skating. She needs a partner for the pairs jumps."

With that, Katie flounced (though Kendall knew she'd never admit it, skating was her girly time) back onto the ice, and Kendall pulled off his skates.

He needed some time _without_ thinking.

Maybe the guys had calmed down enough that he could actually talk some reason into them.

But then again, they were Big Time Rush. They'd never calm down.

Kendall packed both pairs of skates into his bag.

Maybe they'd be up for a game of field hockey tomorrow afternoon.


End file.
